


Cruel Summer

by abeyance



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Jonerys Valentine's Challenge, Jonerys Valentine's Week, Neighbors, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeyance/pseuds/abeyance
Summary: For her whole life, Daenerys's parents have forbade her of going anywhere near the orphanage next door.  And for her whole life, she listened. Until an anonymous being starts to leave written messages in the window across from her bedroom.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 67
Kudos: 139





	1. its a cruel summer(with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for iceandfiresource's Jonerys Valentine Week Day 2(lace): starcrossed / forbidden love.
> 
> please excuse any in ac curacies when it comes to the child service system. just roll w the plot yall lmao.

When Dany was growing up, she would always read on the bench connected beneath her window. It would make her feel like a princess. Like Rapunzel maybe, looking out over the kingdom that she could never be a part of. 

Her window actually looked out the side of her house and into the next one. In the valley between the two, the children who lived in the house played. 

Dany was never allowed to play with them. There was a stone wall separating the properties; it was old stone, built by her ancestors, along with the rest of her house. It was odd that she couldn’t cross to the other side - at least she always thought so. Because on the other side of her house there was another stonewall. And beyond that one, a park. She would always play there with her few private school friends who also lived in the area. Sure, Mother would be there too, but they were young, and their parent’s jobs were dangerous. Dany felt safer with her there anyway. 

As she got older, understanding slowly came into play with why she wasn’t allowed. The Targaryen property was old, but it was kept up by the legacy of their political roles in the regions. They had converted the old guest house into an orphanage about a hundred years back when their social life became more private. It was now owned by their rival political family, the Lannister’s, and not them directly; and so now, random kids would be settled in for months at a time. If she were to play with them, she would be giving the Lannister’s leverage.

The revelation made Dany notice some things a bit more, now that she watched them play with that in mind. They were never the same group of kids, and they played roughly compared to her dolls or turns she and her own friends took on the swingsets. 

The more years that passed, the more Dany was glad her parents never let her play with them. It seemed that as soon as she overhead their names enough to know which was which, or she recognized a face, they were gone the next day. Or the next week. 

(and as she got even _more_ older, the fact that her separation from them was to protect their pristine familial reputation was even more prominent. Who would want their governor’s daughter playing with dirty orphans? What would the press say?) 

It made her sad; she never really saw a return of a face, and when the rare time came and she did, they were never the same as before.

Everything was the same. She would complete her homework in the window, watching the younger kids play, watch them disappear when they got comfortable. The same separated life running over and over with multiple individuals

And so when a note appeared in the window adjacent to her, Dany’s eyes caught on it; there was never exactly something new to look at.

**_What are you reading?_ **

At first, Dany just...stared at it. She tried to think of why someone would use those words, facing towards the outside of their window, as some sort of decor of their room. Or if that was it, why it just seemed scribbled with a stray colored pencil.

She took her eyes off of it to look at her book. There was a small tea table at the end of her bench; it was for nothing but her current book she would be reading, a small vase big enough for one singular flower (She changed it regularly), a tea dish, and the piled sketch and notebook that she had not touched in a few years.

_Les Miserables_

If the question was for her, that would be the answer. She had been reading it for some time - her parents had received box seats to see the national tour, and ever since then, she had been interested in the original story. 

_If._ Dany had already decided that doubt was stupid. But she couldn’t decide which side of the doubt was stupid; her actually thinking the note was for her, or not easily understanding that it was.

But who else would it be for? After a quick thought, Dany knew that she would be the only one able to read it since she was the only one whose window looked out to this side of the house. Unless it was directed at the children who would play beneath - but the wall was probably too steep for them to see it being there, nevertheless read it.

_Ah, what the hell._

Dany unstacked the notebook from that pile, the leather for her sketchbook unsticking from the surface with age. She flipped to the center, ignoring her old and strange drawings, and ripped out a blank sheet.

**_Les Miserables. AKA the Brick._ **

She wrote it in a pinkish-orange marker. As she went to recap it, the scent of mango flowed into her nose; it was one of those scented markers found in those shitty art sets every aspiring kid-artist’s family got them for holiday presents.

Dany stared at the message, her legs crossing each other and her elbows resting on each knee and the paper in both hands. She tucked her hair behind her ear, peering through the found space at the note in the window once more.

She tucked the paper in her window sill and went to bed before second guessing herself, or her embarrassment. 

When Dany woke up the next day, her note wasn’t answered. She went about her brunch plans and Debate Team meeting without trying to think about how stupid she must’ve looked to the person who lived across from her. It was summer, so she would usually open her windows when she read, but it seemed like she needed to close her curtains now. Just to hide her embarrassment. Until whoever placed it there would leave to their next foster home or orphanage in the next two months.

But, even after she made the executive decision (with herself) to just take down the note and pretend like nothing happened, Dany came home to the paper in the opposite window replaced.

**_Musical girl, then. Seem the type._ **

She found herself scoffing, un-narrowing her eyes and shaking her head. She sat against the wall and stared at her book. With a sigh, Dany took it into her hands, turning it over and thinking over the message.

She tossed it aside with the prompting of spite in her, grabbing the sketchbook and marker again.

**_You wouldn’t want to hear me sing._ **

When she went to put the note up, she paused. What was she supposed to do with the other one? Just throw it away? It seemed...insignificant to do that. Not to mention questionable if her parents decided to think she was using drugs like any other private school student again (wouldn’t want to taint the reputation).

Dany plucked the old note, simply pressing it in her sketchbook. She replaced its space with the new one, and then settled into her book.

Her eyes drifted, though. To the window, as if they had already answered. She didn’t even know if they were there, what with the curtain covering most of it. It was the kind of fabric that could be seen through, but not enough to know someone's full routine. But it still was always dark in that room either way.

She had no idea when they snuck it in. but she turned her head at the flicker of a street light, and a new colored pencil’s marks were on a new paper.

**_Maybe read outloud._ **

Once again, Dany shook her head, but this time biting back a smile.

**_Stutter too much. Better off reading on your own._ **

She watched this time, to see if she caught the peak through the curtain to read it, or a hand sneaking in to switch it out. But as soon as she seemed to turn down to her book, that's when it happened.

**_Have any recs?_ **

Here's where she twisted her lips in thought.she had no idea who this person was - whether it be one of the children she watched play, or maybe a smart-ass thirteen year old. Either or, the main question, whether it be a boy or a girl, seemed forever unanswered. The writing was pretty good if it was a boy’s but also a little scribbly if a girl’s. Actual words used didn’t help either.

**_Depends on what youre looking for._ **

As much as she wanted to look for the responding hand, Dany was quickly learning that it wasn’t how her penpal(?) wanted to work.

**_Anything with a well-rounded story_ **

She looked to her book shelf, over all of her books that she read over the last few years. A certain book that would hit all of the generic ‘good book’ marks, without seeming too generic of a choice in itself, called to her.

She pushed off of the bench to retrieve it. When she came back, another note was in the window, and the curtain swayed with recent movement.

**_Didn’t mean you'd need to actually GET it_ **

Dany wrote her own note, balancing the book on the window.

**_Nothing better to do. This look interesting enough for you?_ **

**_Sure._ **

**_What now?_ **

Her notes were piling up - and the use of the sketchbook paper was becoming a lot. Dany left her spot to get one of her unused notebook from her past school year instead. Her question was answered upon her return.

**_The garden gate at the back is always unlocked. You can put it on the chair by the bird fountain. Only if you want to._ **

Dany craned her vision to the back of the orphange’s yard - so _that_ was what that small jungle was. The whole building was the old guest apartments for her family’s estate, and although not very upkept, held the same flowery aesthetic that her property did.

**_Will i be able to see who im giving my book to?_ **

The responses were getting quicker.

**_I have to work late all this week, sorry._ **

Huh. she hadn't exactly imagined who she was talking to, but nothing in the back of her mind told her it would be someone old enough to work. Especially in such an area that limits the working age.

**_That's okay. But what's with the secrecy?_ **

**_Little ones are napping._ **

**_Were also told to not talk to your family._ **

She didn't exactly know what to say to that. She wasn’t, either, but she also knew the reason was specifically to avoid their ‘bad influence’. And that seemed like something that would be mean to mention.

**_Ah, considerate_ **, Dany went with. Seemed like a medium ground.

**_Gotta go to work_ **

**_Okay, have fun._ **

Was that the correct thing to say? She never exactly had to have a job, except babysitting sometimes. 

As she watched the sky go dark, Dany caught herself daydreaming more than reading. Such a form of communication was...weird. Texting, but slower ofcourse. But not as slow as email.but emailing was _faster_ than letters, which was also a form of what they were doing, but…

Well, also, who is _they?_

Her, Dany, of course. But who was on the other side? The anonymity was fun. But she was also a curious and impatient person who wanted to _know._

Thankfully, later, the AC in the Targaryen house had made it chilly enough for her to wear a jacket to dinner. It would avoid the questions of why she brought a book down by hiding it underneath as well as why she would be outside long enough for the hidden chill of summer to get to her.

Dinner was a quiet affair as most usually. Clank of the plates and utensils echoed through their near-empty table, now that Rhae _and_ Viserys were off at summer programs. Her father cleared his throat.

“I finally finished the mid-annual financials.”

“That's good, darling,” Her mother praised, nodding her head. The uncomfortable silence was wanted to be broken by all, but they didn’t exactly have anything to talk about to do as such. “There was much more to be done this year. I’m glad you showed the board that you don't mess around with extensions.”

“If I had help, maybe I would not have had to request for that time.” 

Dany already knew he was pointing the blame at her. Everyone has helped with the family politics, but Dany has found herself straying from it as she got older. At Least the kind that they were involved in. but she knew any snarkiness would start a conversation that she would prefer the awkward silence over, so she went about it a different way.

“Dei and I went to that new little food inn downtown. And Coach says we have a shot at Debate Nationals.” 

She watched her father nod his head slightly - but looked for her mom, who would give her the true thoughts. Truer, atleast. 

“That's very exciting, Dany. You would be going to Kingslanding, right?”

She nodded.

“That would be good for you. I know it's a big city, but I don't think anything is as noisy as living here.”

 _Now_ Dad perked up. “God, today was awful. I don’t know how those orphans have that much energy.”

Dany bit her cheek. Shed learned to pick her battles over the years. This one was definitely one she would rather not get involved in.

“Best decision we made regarding you kids, separating you from their lives.”

“ _Worst_ decision to put an orphanage in that building, though.” Dad started to furiously saw through a piece of steak.

“Well, we thought it would have turned into a historical landmark when the government bought it.”

Dany swallowed, glancing at the clock. 

“Hey, uh - I’m supposed to meet with Dei at the end of the street. We’re just going to walk around town.

“Do you need money?” She shook her head. “Just be back by ten thirty, please.”

With that, Dany ducked through the kitchen door, circling around the back of her house until she came across the gate. It was among overgrown vines and bushes; something that should've probably looked more creepy than it did...interesting. Its hinges squeaked as Dany snuck between as small of a place possible. There was an electric lantern next to it, its faux candle flame flickering with the lack of watt left in the bulb.

Her mystery note-passer was accurate in their directions. Beyond the gate, beneath a willowy tree, was a crooked, empty bird fountain. Accompanying it was a long stone bench; both were things someone would only see in closed gardens. _Old_ closed gardens. 

It seemed like she had walked into a room, or a set. The high barred fences were coated with thick vines and leaves. There was gravel scattered, lightly hinting at what once was a path, leading around a small circle lined with overgrown rose bushes and weeds in between. It...well, Dany would take this over her small reading nook any day. And she couldn't even see the whole thing in the darkness. 

She tilted up her chin, looking at the stars shining through the branch leaves. The scent of wilting wildflowers streamed into her nose. One day, Dany decided, she would go read back here. There was a small alcove at the base of the tree where she could sit, out of view. None of the children came back ere, anyway - at least she never even saw them go near it. If they did, she would think there would be many more escapees considering the gate being unlocked and fences unclimbable.

Then again, her...pen pal... _they_ knew about the broken gate. Did everyone know, and living here was actually not that bad?

Dany shook free of her thoughts. What was she thinking? She just had to lie to her parents to _drop_ this book off. Going to read here during the day? They'd station her a security guard, probably. Quickly she placed her book on the bench and then scurried back out, the old metal hinges whining against her deliberate closing of the gate. 

She didn’t have any actual plans with Missandei, but returning so early would raise questions, so Dany walked around their community a bit. The summer night had some chill in it - some humidity too, as she circled the lake.

After watching the swans circle with their ducklings in tow for a bit, Dany headed back home, welcoming the slight humidity in the air as she rounded back to her street. She came upon the front gate and went to put in the code - but not before someone to her left slammed their car door shut. It was a familiar sound, sure, but Dany still whipped her head over to the orphanages’ driveway. Someone surely as leaving the car and walking up to the front door. 

_I work late._

Dany took a closer look. It was nothing more than a shadow of the person since the sky had since succumbed fully to night. But just by the way they walked, she could tell it wasnt who she had been imagining. She had no idea who was in her head, but…

The gate beeped open, and Dany slipped inside. 

**_It's on the bench_ ** , she wrote, and then closed her curtains to change for bed. 

Her book rested on their sill with a new note attached.

**_Yep, got it. Thank you._ **

Dany bit her smile back, flicking on her desk light to read her own book.

And that's how it started. 

It was a method, she and this person adjusted into. From what Dany had learned the orphanage didn't have any books - there was an incident about a year ago, and all of them had been gone ever since. But being an older kid there did not warrant much things to do. They were to go to the public school and they had a job, but it was summer. There wasn’t much else they could do, especially since the car was for three other kids who had their licenses. They were also from the north, Dany learned, and did not do well in the sun.

She had started storing all of her messages in a stationary box that had been sitting underneath her tea table. It felt wrong to throw them out; and she could've sworn she had nightmares of her parents finding them and cutting her off from even looking at the house. She just needed to keep her curtains closed upon leaving and things generally as they always looked.

It took them three days to finish the first book. Apparently, Danys assumption was correct, and the smaller kids couldn't exactly go into the little garden in the back. But her pen pal had yet to cause much trouble in the orphanage so the warden let them go back there with promise that they would clean it up a bit. While they would be at it, they left the book on the bench for Dany to pick up.

And she did; only to replace it with her next recommendation. She saw an improvement with the garden, too; the gate wasn’t as creaky, and some of the old dirt patches had been covered in new soil and pre-grown flowers. Despite all of this, the little oasis still kept its fairytale feel, which Dany enjoyed. 

It was also at the end of their second week; the middle of july, that it had accidentally happened.

Dany always found herself spending a little time there at night, after dropping the book down on the bench, to look around the garden. At her friend’s newest additions, or just to feel like nature’s princess. But she had never seen it during the day, so when it was just hot enough to find comfort beneath the willow tree, she took a book and headed on over. 

She was almost done with _les mis_ and was frankly surprised with herself about it. She was counting the chapters left when the crunch of gravel had her glance over her shoulder. And then she glanced again.

There were shoes there. Worn boys shoes, attached the pants, attacked to a shirt, attached to a neck holding up a head or dark curls dripping sweat over a slightly confused expression.

Dny slammed her book shut forgetting about the page, sprouting to her feet. 

“O-oh, I-I’m…” _Sorry? That I’m a random girl just reading in your slightly abandoned garden?_ As she tried to form an excuse, or even a sentence, Dany realized she had nothing planned.

“Hey,” the boy said. He sounded late in his puberty. Looked her age, too.

“Hi,” she clipped. He looked away from her, eyes squinting in the sun. she couldn't tell if it was that or he was smiling. But there was a smirk on his lips as he looked back at her. So. 

“I,uh…” he slowed and waved a hand. “I thought your side of the transaction was a nighttime thing.”

“My transaction?” She hugged her book to her chest, watching him stroll over to a bird feeder that had been installed. She straightened it.

“But if you want to read back here i mean, fine by me. I'm the only one who comes back here anyway. I guess that means I can make the rules.” he looked at her. “For once.”

She wasted no time pacing quickly to him, eyes inline with his shoulder. He smelled of sweat. And boy. And...was it coffee?

“ _You?_ ” she asked, looking through her eyebrows. He glanced back down to her before moving to face her. “You’re the window notes...person?”

He gave a solemn nod. “I like this book so far, by the way. Even if it's clearly a romance.”

Dany scoffed. “ _The Night Circus_ is _not_ a romance. The author had to add that in after she pieced the whole world together. There's so much more.”

“Defensive of your taste, i see.” 

She tried to keep her tough look, but her teeth had to sink into her cheeks to hold it. The boy caught on and gave her a sly smile, holding out his hand.

“Jon. Good to finally speak, window-book-pen-pal.”

“Dany,” she said, shaking his hand. 

He told her to get back to reading, and he would work around the garden while she did. Dany obliged; but only halfway, with the other half watching him and wondering how she was so lucky and unlucky all at once.

_Jon. Jon. Jon._

She realized how stupid it was that she didn’t know his name before. It would have answered at least two obvious questions. But neither ever got around to asking, so it never was answered for both of them.

Sometimes she would go read in the garden. But, admittedly, she lost interest when she saw Jon wasn’t there; and so she would go back upstairs and read in her window, where she learned he usually would be. Sometimes he was able to leave the curtains open a bit more. But there was always someone else in the house, someone who could see the odd sight of the two of them reading together with glass and a few feet of air separating them.

It was pathetic, really.

But as was the paranoia her parents wouldn’t get over. She would never be allowed to be seen with _anyone_ who was a part of the orphanage. Despite their severe lack of paps in the area. And the paps’ extreme lack of interest over some random politician’s daughter.

In their garden conversations, they had fallen into talking _too_ much. A youngling had become so curious about the voices she was hearing one day that she walked right into the garden. Dany squished into the bush beside her, hiding her presence from getting into the child’s loose lips, as Jon led her back to the group with excuses of how he was singing and talking to faeries as he worked.

He returned to a _very_ focused Dany, giving him a playful silent treatment for the rest of their hour together, and then leaving him a note in her window that night that said to meet her in the garden when he got home from work.

Somehow, he did. He was earlier than her, even, looking slightly exhausted from his day, but eyes brightening when her silver hair shined through the vined-over fences. The energy radiated from him was different - it was out of the sun, out of the hours of work, so he was dressed casually. Dark pants and layered flannel under a worn denim jacket. his hair was loose, too, and she liked how his curls swept back and full.

“I was thinking we should talk now. Instead of during the day,” Dany explained quietly when he asked what this was about. He had walked over to where she leaned back on the gate to shut it.

“Why not during the day?” 

They talked through the windows, sure. Her box was starting to fill up, and she had moved to her second notebook.

“Well, today, with the little girl. That can’t happen.”

She watched his eyebrows furrow in the flickering lantern light. 

“It won’t. Lyanna, she’s a curious little thing. But i told her -”

“That you were talking to fairies. I know.” she couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity.

“Hey!” Jon put a hand next to her shoulder, letting the gate slightly groan as he leaned into her. “Do you have a better excuse?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. but that's the problem. If we’re caught, we’re dead.”

“Relax. If she walks in on you being here, i'll just say you're the faerie i speak to. Sure do look like one.” his other hand came in to play with her hair.he had asked about it before, if it was natural and all of that, but never exactly...well. It was probably dark enough to hide her blush, but not her smile.

“Stop it,” Dany retorted sheepishly, giving his chest a little push. “This is serious, Jon. My parents have forbidden me to even _look_ at this place since I could understand words.”

He pushed off the gate and took a few steps around their spot. “Yeah, I know. But hasn’t this worked so far?”

“With a lot of error waiting to come into play.” She watched his movements, looking for anger, but could only see agitation. She was, too. But then he placed his hands at his hips, kicking the gravel and nodding.

“I don't want to let go of this.”

This time Dany pushed off the gate to go sit on the bench. _This._ waking up with a new note every morning. Recounting their conversations as she restacked the papers. Bringing trail mix and notebooks to their little hangouts in the garden, just to talk about nothing and everything as she pretended she was reading and Jon took twice as long to do one task. They knew what _this_ was. But it didn’t have a name. Nor did their curiosity with each other. They just...fit. Their minds made sense.

And she had a feeling he didn’t have anything more to latch on to.

“Me neither.” She didn’t have anything better to do while waiting for him to get off work everyday. So she had this part ready.“But I have an idea.”

It was something she was already doing and that he caught onto quickly.

Every night since the first time Dany had given Jon a book, she had found herself outside after dinner. There was silence in the falling light that she found comforting; unlike the the awkward, too-unlike-to-find-something-to-talk-about silence she perceived at dinner. With the excuse of walking with a friend, she would wander; sometimes around to lake, sometimes just to the end of the street. But a lot of the time she would find herself in the garden. Just sitting there. It was different at night. A good difference. It didn’t take away the comfort she found with it in the day. 

Jon would simply say that his job needed a closing position. He would park up the street and sneak in, meeting her there for a half hour or so before pretending to drive back home. Except for the days that he had to walk; but those were even easier.

It was working fine. And then they would both sit at the tree, talking until things would get suspicious. He would tell her system stories while she would tell him about the pretentious life of private school; his stories always had her throat get tight by the end, and Dany started to feel insecure about the _security_ of her stories. But he explained to her that they were her own troubles. She had a right to get upset at such small things, as long as he could, too.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Dany’s Debate Team was starting a fundraiser. It wasn’t for them, of course - the tuition the school asked for covered their trip costs. But there were other teams from other schools who couldn’t, so they decided to help them out.

The whole town was invited to the park, where they held a family fun day of sorts. There was a bouncy house and face painting and live bands. Dany’s artistic reputation had stuck since middle school, although she had let go of that hobby, and she was pushed into the face painting booth with some basic designs.

It wasn’t long until the Warden and kids arrived.

Knowing them a bit better now, mainly from Jon’s stories, it excited her to see them all run around and play with everyone else. She tried not to get too distracted from the current mini face-paint client she had, but when she saw Jon walk into the scene, she had to pretend to change brushes. 

He looked _different_. Like the sun melted away anything soft about him, down to the very bones of his face and the tiredness deep in his eyes. Although it was hot out, he wore his jacket over a tshirt and excluding the flannel. She realized, as she did a double take, that she had never seen him besides when he worked in the garden and he met with her at night. She knew the things he told her. But not the Jon that everyone else saw. Not the one that has been in the child-services system his whole life.

It must do _something_ to a person. And she thought she could see it, now - just in the way he was walking. _Family fun day_ , for kids with no family. 

(she also realized that she had never _actually_ seen him walk before. Long distance at least. Enough to read his personality through it).

Her parents were here. They had a booth, advertising the next election while selling tickets for some rides the committee had rented, with her last name all over it. Thing is... Jon didn’t know her last name. At least she hadn’t told him it. Gods, she just hoped he wouldn’t slip and say something stupid. 

She finished the kid’s design quickly so she could get a better view of their booth when he approached it with some little ones. It was clear that he and two other older kids were brought along as a chaperone. 

The transaction seemed to run smoothly. Her parents’ looks were hard, though, glares at their backs as they walked away. The event was during Jon’s work hours so she hadn’t exactly mentioned it. But he seemed to spot her without much difficulty with a double glance and wave. He formed in the line that was starting at her booth with two smaller kids in tow. 

Somehow her parents had found time to get away from their booth to visit their daughter. With _perfect_ timing, it seemed.

“Lannisters really can’t help themselves, can they,” her father opened with. Dany sighed, hoping that the public setting would rescue her retaliation.

“It's just a community day, Dad. The money is going to a good cause.”

“Yeah, well, we don't want _their_ money funding this.”

“It isn’t theirs once they spend it.” she smiled at the kid she was painting to lighten the mood. “What color do you want your wings?”

“Yellow,” the girl answered. 

“They shouldn’t have come. They have a perfectly good yard that constrains their lack of values and discipline.”

It was at that point the Dany knew it was time to stop talking. She had yet to have that fight with her father, or mother, and would not like to have it now, when she actually had something at stake.

Still, she felt Jon's eyes. She couldn't tell if he was burning his gaze to her or it was ricocheting off of her father’s back. 

And _dammit_ , they stayed there, having their conversations, as Jon and the kid he was watching were next in line.

Dany helped the kid onto the high chair, trying to catch Jon’s eyes. Eventually they found each other, looking over the kid’s shoulder, Dany trying to give him an apology with her eyebrows only.he shook it off but she could see how his jaw clenched. It made her stutter while asking what design they wanted, which made her parents look between them.

“I don't believe we’ve met before,” her father spoke up. She saw Jon perk up to the sense of it being directed at him. Danny kept her eyes hard on the child’s face, not wanting Jon to look at her.

“Uh, no sir. I’m...I’m new. Around here.”

“Yes. I've seen you walkin’ back and forth next door and everything alot.” 

_There goes the ‘he lives across town’ plan._

“Um.. Yeah. I do a lot of yard work.”

“He likes to go in that garden, to make homes for the fairies!” Dany froze her paintbrush, not expecting the kid to speak.

“Shh,” she told them. “We don’t want to mess this rainbow up, right?” 

They looked at her with wide eyes and shook their heads. Dany smiled at them and continued.

Jon cleared his throat above her. “I'm fixing up the garden in the back.”

“That garden hasn’t been touched in decades. Good for you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

There weren't any paps. That was the only reason Dany could understand why her parents were talking to a person they were just insulting three minutes before.

“What made you want to?” _Shit_ . Why did she ask that. She glanced up at him, expecting the stunned face she was met with, and bit her lip in a _i-don't-know, just-make-something-up_ message way.

“It has potential. Just needs love, too.”

The child’s face was done. Jon watched his feet rocked back and forth as she helped them off the chair, his hands in pockets, before grabbing their hand and walking away, sparing her one glance. She couldn't tell what it read.

“That kid was an oozing stoner. See, Dany? Would you really want to be nice with that, give them your time and money?”

She just hoped her dad was right, and that Jon _was_ a stoner. Because she needed a high after that ordeal. 

That night, her dad’s friends came over. She left a note in her window and then took some of the wine she knew would not be missed by morning and then headed to the garden.

Jon came in a minute after her, settling wordlessly next to where she sat underneath the tree.

“Sorry about today.”

“You already told me your parents were jerks.”

“Yeah. but i never wanted it to be shown to you firsthand.” she turned to him. “I stole their alcohol, though.”

Jon gave a breathy laugh. “That’s one way to do it.” 

They both took a long swig of it. 

“Was what you said true? About wanting to fix this up?”

“Yeah,” Jon said after a moment. “Part of it. You know the other part, though.”

The breath of the sentence was hot on her shoulder. She didn’t realize how close they were sitting. Dany laid back on the blanket she brought. 

“It's weird,” she started, looking at the stars through the leaves. Jon drank some more before looking at her.

“What is.”

“This is. How we...I never knew people could just...click like this.”

“Like what?” Jon asked, leaning back onto his elbows. “Like us?”

She nodded. “It all makes perfect sense when we are here. When were alone. But then we go out, with other people and…”

“Yeah.”

Dany turned her head towards him. He was staring at something straight ahead. The lantern reflected onto the dark shade of his eyes, making them look warm. She went to place her hand on his arms, but wrapped her arms around him instead.

“Jon?”

He still seemed a bit out of place from how her arms were wrapped around him. “Hm?”

“What happened to your parents?”

Jon straightened his elbow so they both laid down. She felt his hand start to twirl in her hair.

“I only had a mother. She died having me.” 

“What about the rest of your family?”

“They don’t know I exist.”

Dany sat up. “What? But - but you would’ve been able to grow up out of the system. In a home.”

“They were...they were pretty religious. My mother got pregnant out of wedlock. I was probably safer in the system than the neglect I would’ve received.”

Dany had seen the eyes of some of those kids. To say that…well. She didn’t want to think much further into what degree that would have pertained to.

“I hate my parents most days. But I'd take them over your situation any day.”

“It's fine. I’m almost out.”

For such a selfish moment, Dany was relieved to be reminded of that; but more over the fact that he would finally be able to be _hers_.

Because she knew, even just from today, that...well, this wasn’t a good idea. Both of them are going against house rules. 

“What did you do before fixing this up?”

“Like, what do I like to do?”

She nodded.

“I'm an introvert. I listen to music. Write my mind sometimes.”

She wasn't surprised, honestly - now seeing his new look, he screamed Dead Poets Society. Dany remembered what her dad said and snorted.

“My dad thinks you’re a stoner.” she picked her head up to look at his face.

Jon, surprisingly, shrugged. 

“I don’t like the dealing part, but when i find some, why not.”

“Wait - really?”

“Sure. it's fun when it's once in a while.”

“I've always kinda wanted to try it. But I don't really know...like, where to get it.”

This time it was Jon’s turn to sit up with surprise.

“Don’t you go to private school?”

“Yeah, and?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Surprised you haven't come across some, is all. Even on accident.”

“Ah, yes, the hidden stereotype.”

Jon looked at her for a moment. Dany raised her eyebrows, curious as to what he was trying to do. With the way they were sitting...well.she wouldn't be surprised if he was thinking of her lips.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered it involuntarily. Her breath caught when he picked her hand up and ran his thumb across her fingers.

“Do you really want to?” he glanced at her through his eyelashes. She never realized how long they were. Dany swallowed in anticipation. Of something.

“W-want what?”

A smirk broke out. She knew, because she was looking at his lips.

“To smoke weed.”

The moment broke.

“ _What.”_

He gave her a grin full of trouble.

“We can, if you want. I found some.”

Dany sat up fully to watch him fully. “What do you mean, you _found some_.” her head followed him standing up and walking over to the other side of the garden. 

“I mean I found some. Planted. Almost ready to harvest, actually.” he pulled back a bush and looked over to Dany, inviting her to look. When she ducked in, sure enough, there was a cluster of the plant off of the root of another stem.

“Gods. That's weed.”

“Correct.”

She smiled. “Okay, we’re set then.”

They settled back on the blankets, Jon telling her how some kid probably planted it without thinking of how long they were going to be staying at the home. It was supposed to be light hearted - and it was, making Dany laugh, but slowly made her remember their situation.

“I hate this,” she said simply, tongue numb with wine.

“What? Life?” 

She hummed a laugh. “Easy way to put it. But - like - how we can’t just be normal.”

“I think that's a quality, actually. Average sucks.”

“No, I mean _us._ You and me. As a pair. How we have to - we have to _hide_. Why do we have to hide?”

“We know why we have to hide.”

“But it doesn’t make sense.”

It was a long talk that night. It was how she was Dany and he was Jon, how they shouldn't be caged up just because they were on separate sides. And with a moment of rebellience - between both of their drunken lips and minds - they simply decided to not care. To forge this garden as _their_ spot, but allow themselves to go to other places.

She learned that Jon wasn’t as nice-boy as she thought. He was rough, and sad, and had that peace he was looking for right under the surface of himself that he was reluctant to scrape off incase everything fell out instead.

It was odd - there was opposition in both of them. It was between their lives and their adjacent wants. Two separate pairs of magnets all pulling into the meet at the middle and fighting each other with what pole wanted to connect. It was her ample lifestyle that she took nothing out of, and his mal-filled one that he had to pick off from the bottom. It was the want to run anywhere, go anywhere with each other besides the small garden that sealed in the fate and confirmation and safety of one another, but then also fining the comfort in the seclusion, in the sense of it being their own world.

They didn’t finish the bottle, but they hid it between two rocks in the bushes instead of Dany bringing it back in.

On her way to leaving for her Debate Team the next morning she caught Jon lingering on the fence separating their properties. She had never seen him do that before; and so she walked over to him, asking him what was wrong.

“Nothing,” he responded. “I just felt like talking to you I think.”

She smiled. “I gotta go. But we’ll meet up tonight, right?” 

He nodded. The moment felt weird. He wasn’t one to...something was just _off_.

They did meet up that night. But when she showed up at the gate, Jon was leaning on it - from the outside. It was a sight she never saw before and she slowed down as she registered it.

“I...was thinking we could go somewhere else,” he said. Dany walked up to him, noticing the hands deep in his pockets. 

“Somewhere else?”

“Yes or no?”

She liked the thought of the sponenuity. Dany barely nodded before he grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him.

They wandered. That was simply it. They wound up at the huge rock overlooking the lake, legs across one another, watching the swans and geese glide through the waters. His hand tapped on her knee.

“I feel like i've never seen you like this,” Dany said.

“What do you mean?”

“A Lot of things. The look of the sunset on you. Surrounded by something other than green.” she tilted her head. “Relaxed.”

“I am relaxed,” he agreed. “Always feel like I am around you. Which is odd.”

“Hm?” she knew he would explain, but questioned it anyway.

“I feel like I shouldn't be. Just because your parents are out to get us. A constant overcast of intrusiveness on...this paradise we formed.”

“I don’t think paradise is the right word. A paradise has peace.”

“This is the closest to peace that we will get, i think, Dany.”

She gave him a sad smile, knowing the truth of it.

They walked back to the garden. It was that magnet, pulling them back, the fences seeming like their safe haven. She stayed longer than needed that night. There was something between the both of them that was building, building, wrapping them around each other and bringing everything around them with it. 

For a week it rained. There was nothing they could do about it; and so Dany kept to her window, her body aching with the thing that it was given daily. She wondered if this was what he grew up feeling like; the want for something leaving that echoing hole in the core. For _someone_ . For him, it was for a person he called mother. For Dany, it was... for _him_ . And while the curiosity, the unknown, held in who that would be for him, it was _what this was_ for her.

It scared her for when they were able to see eachother again. She didn't know if their balance would be off since the separation. It was a short while, but it was enough for her to know what she wanted.

“What we have is so fragile,” she admitted one night to missandei. She couldn’t stop her routine of going out every night, so they just hung out at either of their houses. “And yet, we are...it feels like I can do anything with him. Like there are no rules.”

“But you can't be seen together.”

“Well yes, that.”

“I just...be careful, Dany. like you said, this is fragile. But I can see the amount you care for him isn’t.”

Dany sighed. “It was a careless devil’s decision, for sure.”

They got more creative with it, once it stopped raining. 

**_Im being let off early tonight_ **

**_Didn’t tell Warden, tho_ **, Jon wrote to her one day. 

**_Can you drive?_ **The ground was still soggy. He gave her a check mark.

He told her he would be at the end of the street by a certain time; but Dany watched the windows, waiting for the headlights, and he never came.

She checked the garden and he wasn’t there either. Nor was his car parked.

But, when she decided to walk down the street anyway, she saw it parked there. Confused, she climbed into the passenger side. Jon restarted the engine and went freely down the street. At first, she was going to stop him, tell him that was _not_ a good idea...but then realized the road ahead of them was not lit at all.

She looked over at Jon, who, after turning off their street, reached down and twisted something. The headlights in the front of the car lit up. He glanced at her.

“Foster homes kinda make you prone to the tricks of sneaking out.”

She just nodded, not knowing what to say. 

Once they got out of the community, Dany started to feel...refreshed. She didn’t know anyone besides those who lived around her in all honesty. Jon was new to this area; he didn’t know anyone at all.

They were allowed to be careless.

They did random things. The things that teens in small towns do; Target runs, random gas station hauls.

It was perfect. 

Some time in between, they got milkshakes from the convenience store’s machine. It broke the adrenaline, both of them enjoying it calmly in the car. They found their way back to the garden, then, sitting side by side on the damp stone bench.

“Re...remember what you told me, about a week ago?”

Dany crunched her eyebrows in thought. “I told you a lot of things.”

“That you hated it. The situation.”

“Ah,” she breathed, playing with her straw. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t say it, but I do too.”

“You hate what?”

“The unfairness of it all. How this is just... _gods_.” he rubbed his face - Dany took his free hand in both of hers, pressing it to her cheek. “I just wish I wasn't me. Then we wouldn’t have to know we are just waiting for this to end.”

Dany found herself shaking her head. “No, don't say that.”

“C’mon Dany. you know this is how it's going to go. What, I'm gonna turn eighteen, and suddenly your parents will be okay with it?”

“I want you to be who you are. Right now.” She knew she was ignoring it. But she had to. She took the hand at her cheek and placed it on her heart. The feeling of it made Jon look down at it. “I want you.”

She leaned forward, letting herself give in and kiss him. 

His hand tightened on her chest as he fell into it. He tilted his head, sweeping her up as their lips locked more certainly. She reached around to take his face in her hands, holding him together with the tender pacing of it. His free hand came to her neck, his thumb stroking it. The stretch in her muscle made Dany decide she didn’t like the angle; and so, when Jon slightly tugged her, she wrapped into his lap.

The first and only thing that came to her mind was _heaven._

This...they weren’t in a paradise. It was a heaven. A delicate one, yes, maybe being fought over by angels and devils, but that was the difference between heavens and paradises.

The feeling of his arms falling across her back made them remember how this whole thing started. Matually, they separated, dragging their lips from each other to connect in an embrace. 

Everything was alright. Until it suddenly wasn’t.

Their nights and daybreaks were of them being one being; their strong wrapping them into one entity that sat in silence under speckled stars.

Of course, the gate was the thin barrier between reality. The one Jon pointed out earlier that stuck to the sponge of their minds, too dense to actually absorb. There was an end to this. They couldn’t see it; it was nothing but the ocean at night, the tide coming in and back out, only known to them when they were touched by it.

She was about to go to sleep. She had just turned her lamp off after checking if Jon had said anything to her.

And then there was tapping on her window.

She let it happen for a bit. House settling noises or something. But then she caught a pebble hitting the window when she went to look at it, and finally understood.

Jon was underneath it, standing on the top of the stone wall separating their properties.

It was late, but every light in the orphanage’s house was on. Something was wrong.

She never opened her window before, so it took some thought and effort, but she was able to get enough of it open.

“Jon? What's wrong?”

“I -'' he ran a hand through his hair, looking visibly stressed. “Someone ran away.”

“Wh - what?” At this revelation, she now noticed more of the scene. Every car was gone, flashlights ran across the back. 

“This kid - he uh, he has autism. He's not here. We can't find him, and if the cops are called he's just going to be put in an asylum, which i _can't_ live with -”

“Oh, gods, uhm -” Dany looked around the room. For what she didn’t know. She huffed, focusing back on him. “How can I help?”

“Just - just look with me. Please.” she nodded, but there was more to it. 

She couldn't just...she couldn’t just leave. She couldn't go through her front door. Or back door. 

“I - okay.” she poked her head out her window, scanning the sides of the house. It wasn't… it wasn't _that_ far to the ground. And there was a ledged overhang in the middle, too.

Jon read her mind. “I’ll catch you.”

She was already half out her window. 

She didn't exactly need him to catch her when she jumped off, but he did soften her fall with his hands on her waist. She twisted in them to look at Jon, who pulled her into a brief kiss.

“Were the police called yet?”his fingers ran down her hair, no doubt a distraction, if there foreheads together wasn’t enough as one, but she liked the feeling of it. He shook his head, though.

“This is his strike three. They'd put him in an asylum if the police found him.” he pulled away from her, looking hard and helpless into her eyes. “I can't - Dany, if that happens…”

She reached up to kiss his cheek. “It wont,” she said against his skin. “Do you know how long he's been missing?”

Jon shook his head. “He was at dinner, but that's all we know. That, and…” she searched his face as he sighed, looking off somewhere. “The garden gate is open.”

They never left it open. Dany took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said strongly. “Then lets start there.”

They couldnt see anything. 

Beyond the small dirt path leading from her backyard and the gate, everything was just a mess of trees and weeds and vines. The flashlight did nothing in the density.

Dany watched Jon look around, knowing what she had to do. It hurt her. It made her sick to think about such an idea. But only one outcome is important.

“Jon,” Dany said softly. He turned to look at her. She clicked her flashlight on and off, fidgeting. “I uh...this isn't going to work. We won't find him like this.”

“We will, he assured her, continuing to look.

“Not like this, and you know it.” She took a breath. “Jon, I have night vision gear.”

“What? Like, to see in the dark?” Jon walked towards her with his eyes filling with hope. She nodded. But her throat was tightening and her eyes were starting to burn.

“But I'd have to ask my parents.”

He took a moment. And then shook his head. “Okay, then ask for it.”

“No, like - Jon. I can't just take it. I need a reason as to why I’m outside when the front door is locked at two A.M.”

 _That’s_ when it clicked. He cupped her face, kissing her hard and desperate, wiping her stray tear. 

“We knew there was an end.”

Thing is, she didn’t feel like it was the end as she squeezed his hand tighter, raising her arm to knock on her own front door. It was fear. That was all she felt.

“What ever ca - Dany?” her father's tired eyes focused on his daughter and then strayed to the boy standing beside her. “You.”

“Dad, please -”

“Where were you? Why are you -”

“ _Dad -_ ”

“Aren't you from next door?”

Jon nodded. She watched her dad turn to her - his face was expressive, but unreadable. 

“Please, Dad. I'll explain everything. But -”

“But what? Daenerys, for _years_ -”

“ _Stop_ . Stop being _selfish_ and listen to me. They need help. We can't call the police, and we need -”

She was interrupted by her father pulling her into the house and slamming the door. Thankfully, she was holding onto Jon tightly enough for him to stick with her.

“It is two in the morning.”

“I know. But -”

“And you just showed up at the door to _my_ house with a Lannister orphan in your arms.”

She was going to throw up. 

“Funny how you mentioned it, because it really does _Not. Matter_ .” Dany snapped. She never raised her voice at her father. _Never_. And so he sat there, stunned. “I need your night vision stuff. A kid is lost, and probably scared, and -”

“Come with me,” her father said sternly. “You,” he pointed at Jon, “Stay in this room.”

She followed him into his office. For a minute, she thought stupidly, that it was all right there. But then he turned to her.

“Why are you with that boy out there?”

Dany scoffed. “Oh, _that's_ what you're worried about. Of _course -_ ”

“No,” he said, marching towards her. Dany took a step back. “I'm asking why you just showed up at the front door with a boy from the orphanage that me and your mother have done nothing but tell you to avoid. Only for you to ask me -”

“What? To help a child? Oh, what a daring thing to do.”

She could tell he was too mad to continue. Dany took it to her advantage, calming down plenty. 

“Dad, look. I know this is a surprise. All that happened was that I was asked for help. They came to me because they knew we could. An autistic child has wandered off, and they can't find him. So I'm asking _you_.”

Her father rubbed his old face. “And what? Make the Lannisters think we want an alliance?”

It made her sick to know that was all he worried about. But she had to work with him. “No one would know. That's why the police aren't called yet. No one can be involved, or the child is sent off.”

He sighed. “And you just need the gear?” she nodded. For a minute, she thought she would be able to go without saying anything more. But her father paused in the midst of unlocking a storage cabinet. He stood up fully.

“Why were you holding that boy’s hand?”

“What?”

“The kid that’s standing in our foyer.”

“He - he just...just needed comfort.”

Long story short, her father wasn’t convinced.

In the end, they found him. He was at the lake. 

And that was the end of the good news. 

At first it was just being careful. The suspicion was at an all time high, so Dany _actually_ walked with Missandei. They only met during the day, when her parents would not be home. But that was barely enough.

And so they went back to how they started. Window notes. 

It wasn’t like they didn’t anticipate it. 

For hours, she sat at her window. Jon had stopped working on the garden. He used that time to do the same as her. The garden was never really fun without both there, anyway.

Sometimes she got to see his face. The curtain was always drawn, especially with her parents telling the Warden what had happened. 

Somehow, even though it felt like touch was the strongest thing about their connection, the notes seemed to come up to par. It was their own secret language.

And soon, it became their only. 

It was a regular afternoon that they were lucky enough to spend together. But, without the barriers of choppy note conversations, they fell into an argument. Of the fate of them, really.

The argument was the strangest one she ever caught herself in. Usually, like the Debate Team, there were two distinct sides. But this one was both of them basically screaming at the sky, asking why it was torturing them.

“We are one second _. One. Second._ Form it all crashing down.”

“It already has. Were just underwater and it hasn't hit us yet.”

They were both crying. She looked at him, long hopeless. It was _so_ painful, because she _wanted it_ she wanted it all. She loved this new feeling that being with him came with. She loved the feeling of his chest and arms and hair under her hands. The one time she happened to watch him concentrate _so hard_ on what candy he wanted from the vending machine, and how she just...fell.

“ _Dammit_ !” she let herself scream, let herself stomp her foot. “I - i _can't…”_ her muscles twisted into a sob. She let herself do it all. Because she was a child, almost eighteen or not, and she shouldn't have had to feel this way. She shouldn't feel ashamed… 

“Say it,'' Jon said, defeated. Nothing couldn't hurt them more at this point.

She laughed at the exploding pain in her ribs. “You know what the worst part is, Jon? You know - you want to hear what the _worst fucking part is_?”

He watched her kick her gate. He let her open it. 

“I love you, and it’s the _fucking worst_.”

She walked off before seeing his reaction. But she didn't get home without seeing her parents’.

Dany was cut off. She didn't leave the house unless it was for the Debate Team. she couldn't drive there herself, either. 

So she sat at her window. She liked the feeling of love and heartbreak she felt while in it.

Three days in, she was able to look at the garden. It looked the same. But somehow, it also looked dead.

A week in, she watched a paper sneak into Jon’s window.

 **_I’m sorry. I’m here_ ** **.**

Their own secret language.

**_Are you okay?_ **

**_I needed to think._ **

**_What came out of that?_ **

She watched the window. The curtains moved, but he didn’t reply. 

Dany fell asleep waiting for an answer. Just so she could talk to him. For the memories of it, she went through her box of old notes, rereading their conversations from weeks and months ago. Days. they acted as a blanket.

(her one mistake).

The next day, Dany woke up to her mother flipping through all of the papers. She jolted awake at the sight.

 _“_ What the _hells_ is all of this, Daenerys?”

Dany glanced at the window, searching for Jon's response.

(her second mistake).

It took them two nights to move Dany out of that room.

Three weeks until she realized Jon was no longer at the orphanage.

Too long for her to accept it.


	2. we go crashing down (but come back every time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for iceandfiresource's Jonerys Valentine Week Day 4 (Lace): Lost love / Reunions

When Daenerys was growing up, she always thought she wanted to be an actress.

If she were to be, it wouldn’t be for the fame. The flashing camera lights, the people following her every footstep, having more money than she knew what to do with - she didn’t like that part. She liked the prospect of becoming a character, being the physical embodiment to what a person’s mind was like. What their dreams were like.

Now she was grown up. Turns out, she _did_ become an actress, in a way - but only regarding the lifestyle that she _didn’t_ want. And two dead parents.

With their deaths when she was twenty, Dany inherited it all.

Being a politician, Dany quickly realized, was all the _bad parts_ of being an actress. The house. The money. The paps outside her apartment in Kingslanding, away from her past, but still oh too close. The new legacy she had to suddenly pick up.

At least she got to skip out on college. 

Daenerys deadly stared into her own eyes through the studio mirror. Another week, another speech, another reporter, another controversy. She really couldn't get it right.

But being the only Targaryen left, she needed to learn. She had already found the balance of pros and cons - sure, she was alone in the world, but at least her parents couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted.

So although her responsibilities were countless campaigns and speeches and things she needed to do in order to just make herself on the right side of history...she was able to _choose_. Which never really happened to her before, unless she did it in secret.

People floated around her, messing with her hair and her face and clothes for yet another public appearance. She was to have a public conference today, open for reporters to write their articles about a new Child Services act. Her first, actually. She had used her inheritance to open a non-profit organization revolving around improving all sides of the lifestyle those kids in the system did not ask for.

 _That_ was her legacy. To get rid of the lost look in countless children’s eyes that she grew up watching.

Someone handed her a tube of lipstick - she was pretty lenient when it came to people doing whatever they wanted in order to make her look presentable for the tabloids, but she always put the lipstick on herself. It was just her thing.

The classic red lip completed her outfit; a styled dark red blazer over a black blouse and skirt, interlaced with a vintage brighter red belt that was closer to her lip color. It was her common color scheme since it used to be her parents’ notable colors - which, if she didn't look as good in it as she thought, Daenerys would seriously find distaste in.

Soon enough she found herself against the flashes of news cameras and multiple questions being thrown as a security guard guided her to the staged podium. She looked out amongst the sea of reporters all leaning closer to her and speaking out louder than the one before them.

It quieted as usual, though, and she introduced herself as Daenerys Targaryen, continuing with other opening remarks as usual. She then dove into what the act was about, what it would do, how it would help. She answered them accurately and confidently; it made sure every child was in the best situation possible. Regarding their safety, but also their wants as a human.

The whole thing was surprisingly painless compared to some other times, with only a few interruptions of impatient eruptions of questions.

“Daenerys, can you please comment on your family’s avoidance of these problems before?” Daenerys stared at the reporter, conscious of the question.

“I’m sorry?” 

The reporter was already queued with an elaborated phrasing of it. “The Targaryen estate is set less than one hundred feet between the Lannister Orphanage, and not only has it been declined of your financial support, but sold off the family name as a whole.”

Although this was a question she knew was coming and rehearsed, Daenerys still gulped. She placed her hands flat on the podium surface and righted herself. 

“I must remind you that although we were one family, my parents and I did not share the same ideas. I would like to correct the mistakes of the past.”

The general tone. Her parents really threw Daenerys under the bus when it came to what people expected of her. Their desperate focus to not have any hard competitors against their governing had affected too much; and although Daenerys was using her carried power to try and fix it, people were still wary of her motive. But she still had yet to start a scandal...so as of recently, she was just seen as a good daughter pushing forth what her family started. 

As the crowd broke out into more overlapping questions, Dany scanned the crowd; she always looked for new faces, or young ones, interns or assistants that were clearly only just starting to step into the journalism game. Her path to the public’s attention was short, being pretty much born into it, watching her parents become big and her always in the background, the spotlight ready to cut to her once she became of age to vote and legally have her own opinions. Unfortunately she didn't have much time to find her own voice before people started asking for it. But the fact that she could share her own ideas without the barriers of having to get coffee for the boss who didn’t listen anyway...well, she liked to help the new ones out.

She never, however, saw much unprofessionalism. Heard it, yes. Experienced it, maybe so. But people always dressed their part. Which is why her eyes caught on a pair of jeans somewhere in the midst of the at-least-business-casual attire. A _man_ wearing jeans, paired with nothing but a white T-shirt and a leather jacket (women’s fashion could pull this off. Men, no way. Strictly dress pants or slacks for sure). 

Apparently she took too long - an assistant called on someone near the front. Daenerys answered it promptly, shaking off her distraction - but later, while leaving the function, found her eyes searching for the person once more. The shine from their jacket was a beacon through the shuffling crowd. Daenerys wanted to look at their face, maybe see if they were tired, maybe just running late that morning. It was odd how small things like that caught her curiosity. 

They were to have a small cocktail-esc hour with select reporters before heading into a meeting to make the final adjustments. It was to invoke genuine conversation.

Daenerys held her confidence as she observed the room with a fluke in one hand. A quiet murmur settled throughout everyone. business men - and women, she made sure of - discussed various things between it all, whether it be this project or a different one. There was also the sound of pen scribbling as journalists interviewed various co-producers of the chrity. Simple scene. But Dany couldn't think she could be happier having achieved it. 

* * *

He had seen her once before.

One and a half years after. One year from today. When she first debuted her charity; the great, up-and-coming _Daenerys_ Targaryen, re-paving her parents’ footsteps. He watched her cut the ribbon, her cropped hair still blowing in the summer breeze, her smile radiant and just...something he missed.

It wasn’t something he saw; for a year, no word of her. But her parents were actually becoming big, her dad rising all the way to being elected into state governor. There was talk of a daughter - but only a mention.

And then, breaking news: the Governor's wife had passed. A quick illness that was misdiagnosed. And suddenly, her face was everywhere. Next to her father’s - at the wake, at the funeral, to days after with questions as to why she was already in public. But she wasn’t smiling. In none of the pictures, did she smile. How could she? 

Two months go by. Her dad gets drunk, finally breaking into his wife’s death, and drove into a telephone pole. It fell onto him.

More pictures. He forgot what her smile looked like by then. Headlines asking what a politician’s daughter was going to do without her poster parents. 

Start the charity they were to self-centered to make with their money, that’s what. 

He was near the back, the sun’s light probably blinding her from the crowd all together. But the sight of her - the real, actual sight of her - was his own personal sun. it hurt to look at, but gods, he couldn’t stop. 

But it had been a year. At least she had started smiling again.

He had no way to contact her. And so he just went to her next open press meeting and hoped for the best. 

He got in with his job - a web company had taken him in, almost straight out of the system, and with some convincing he was allowed to go do a small report on it. Growing up in the system favored him; he would be able to relate his own experience to how what she was doing may help. It made sense. 

The reason there was a lot of convincing, though, was because of his lack of experience. He was usually the editor of videos and stories. So he _definitely_ didn’t dress the part.

He stood outside with the journalists that were not permitted into the supposed cocktail hour. The group would have to pass through the lobby to get to the stairs, where they would sign the final contracts.

No one realized when the door opened. Except him, who really had no one to talk to - but only one person sneaked through the most minimum crack they made for themselves. He was struck with her light hair sweeping over her shoulders. She closed the door quietly, and he almost laughed when he saw her flinching when it clicked, recognizing the girl he knew more than anything else. She checked for something down the hall and snuck a glance at the crowd, probably hoping to sneak off and not get bombarded. 

But then she froze.

* * *

_Gods_ , Dany thought. _Not even one bathroom in this whole ballroom?_ It was the last time she would leave it up to someone else to pick the venue. 

Thankfully she wasn’t the prime focus anymore, the conversations falling into small talk, and was able to slip out easily. The door was big, though, and she couldn't help but wince at the squeak. 

A bathroom was surely down the hall - she passed it on the way over. She really just needed to check if there was chocolate on her mouth, or her lipstick smudged.

The real challenge, though, was going to make it over without alarming the reporters in the lobby, no less than twenty feet away. She was just going to rise on her toes taller than her heels were, but it wouldn’t matter about the clicking sound if they already saw her. 

She glanced at the lobby. Almost right away, she spotted the guy from before - her mind apparently on hyperdrive to find out if he got some sleep or not. 

With a better look of his outfit, it actually seemed fashionable. He definitely had time to put it together if his hair was slick like that. And really, he didn’t seem tired. Bored, but, his eyes -

_His eyes._

She stood up straighter. _Eyes._

Daenerys gulped. Well, tried. Her throat was burning. It was almost like her vision was finally fading in, like the one thing it had been trying to focus on was finally right in front of her.

Gods. Of _course_ he would wear his leather jacket to a press conference.

Suddenly the clicks of her heels didn’t matter anymore. Nor the looks of the press, or the snaps of photos, because Daenerys Targaryen was running unaccompanied into a crowd of journalists with tears in her eyes, with an overpowering sense of _Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon._

Her eyes were set on his, on how his eyebrows were pinching together in almost _worry_ because maybe he didn’t believe it as much as she didn’t. But it didn’t matter because her face was in his neck and his was in her hair that she cut when she lost him. She needed this feeling - she needed to relinquish the feeling of their bodies pressing together, a warmth she didn’t know she missed as much as she knew now that she had it again(although she _did_ think she missed it an unhealthy amount), the smell of leather that she could never place. Cameras clicked around her, questions flooded into her ears, and security would certainly be wondering what was happening. But honestly, she couldn't hear anything but _his_ \- _Jon’s_ breathing, and his hand on her head, messing up her styled curls, and the pressure leaving her feet as the closeness and tenderness of their embrace gradually took her off the ground.

Dany lifted her head up - just enough to look at him - as he sensed it, doing the same. She touched his face, fingers brushing across the scruff she didn’t remember, just making sure this wasn’t going to be a horrible horrible nightmare. His eyes - they were so full of...of _awe_ and just...relief. 

“I like the new look,” he whispered. She broke in a silent laugh, briefly leaning her forehead onto his jaw. 

“Do I have chocolate on my mouth?” 

His deep eyes flicked to her red lips, his own parting. Jon shook his head.

She didn't know what else to do, so she hugged him again.

“It's been so long since i had even heard from you. I thought we were better at communicating.” they were. They were pathetically good a it. They were giving nothing but windows and wordless sentences and they created a bond stronger than anything they really could imagine.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I never thought I’d see you again. I thought it was too late,” she told him against his collarbone. 

“That would’ve been impossible.”

Reluctantly, they had to pull away, Jon wiping a tear off carefully to not ruin her makeup. People have given up trying to question them.

“So is the thought of you leaving right now,” she sniffed.

“I’ll be right here, I promise.”

* * *

Thankfully, she had snuck him her business card before separating, because although he _was_ there on the way out, she was pushed back to her car before they could so much as promise to see eachother again. 

They just barely pulled from the venue when she got a text;

**Sent from: Unknown**

**_It’s me._ **

She texted him her address with a time to pick her up that night. They said nothing else; as if they just wanted to wait to say it all in person.

It had been two years. Five more hours wouldn't make much of a difference.

Daenerys knew it was him by the way the car went down the street of her Kingslanding neighborhood; completely dark. She caught herself biting her smile before walking to his car, opening the door and sitting inside, grabbing his stray hand leaning on the console. 

“Should I ask why you have a death wish, driving in the dark?”

“Should I ask you why you asked me to pick you up at midnight?” he knew the answer - it was just their thing. It would have felt wrong to drive together during the day.

She hummed a laugh. “Touche.”

Jon rounded a corner, and then flicked on his headlights, giving her a look. “For nostalgia,” he mentioned.

It occurred to her that they didn't have a plan. But they never did. She pressed the back of his closed hand against her cheek. “Where are we gonna go?”

He didn't answer until a stoplight. “I - I want to go back. Go back and see it.”

“What?”

“The garden.” he watched her reaction. “I know, it may be hard. We don't have to. I just have been wanting to go back, but now that I have _you here_ I just feel like I need to. I know that house -”

She shook her head. “Let’s go. We can get there by morning.”

They did. 

The four, almost five hour ride was a catch-up spree. Jon kept looking at her, as if she would suddenly change her mind - he probably thought she moved away to get away from the tragedy of her family. But really, she moved to get away from the tragedy of the two of them.

She loved her parents. They were mean, self centered, but they loved her and were strict out of protection. How they handled Jon put a big foil on their relationship, though; Daenerys fell into dissociation constantly, and they never really made an effort to help, or even approach her. The closest they got was the week her mother got sick. But once she died, well...it was clear that she was the only thing bridging familial respect between Daenerys and her father. 

Jon was sent off. Apparently the system had a trading program that was in Kingslanding. It pained her to hear that, because that meant they were in the same city. For almost a year. Jon knew this, too; he had seen her once, and she could plainly hear it in his voice how much it hurt that she didn’t see him.

Dawn was starting to break when they started to see the familiar buildings. There was something gray about it that Dany couldn’t describe. It hadn't been awhile since she had been there. But it still seemed like some things should have changed. 

Her house’s lights were off. Jon pulled onto the side of it, eye on the orphanage as strong as hers on her old home.

“I still own it,” she whispered. “We can go inside. Rest before driving back.”

Jon nodded, still looking at the building next to it. She touched his arm. He never said anything bad happened in this home. 

“This was my last home,” He said. “My last reminder that no one wanted me.”

She pulled him in by the shoulders, cheek resting on one. He didn't return the hug, but his head nestled into hers.

They were both orphans now.

It was September. The chill teased their skin with the want for summer. 

His hand wrapped around hers. Dany held it tightly.

They were going to go to the garden, but Dany found herself walking up to the front door. Jon came up behind her as she sniffed. 

“I uh...I have the key somewhere. It's one of these.”

Jon hugged her shoulders and she rustled through her keychain. She found the pink sparkly one; her parents made it special when she was younger and she used the same one since.

Town felt gray. But this…

Their footsteps echoed in the tiled foyer. Two years ago they stood there, begging her father to listen. The space for her father was empty. His office door was closed and would not be opened.

Jon watched her look around. But when she caught herself, caught his solemn look, she swallowed. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”

She felt too big for her room. It was empty except for a guest bed, a bare bookshelf, the tea table, and a vanity that didn't fit in her car. She felt Jon huff a laugh behind her. She glanced back at him, seeing that his eyes were on the bench at her window, and she gave him a watery style. 

They sat there.

The window across was a haunted sight. They turned their backs to it and Dany rested her head against his shoulder.

“What's this?” he asked, slightly leaning forward to grab a box under the tea table. It was the only object beside furniture in the whole room. She looked over where he put it in his lap and wiped away a tear.

“Oh my God’s,” she whispered. She let out a laugh, picking it up and opening it. “Our notes. It’s all of our notes.”

“What do you mean?” he looked over, taking the pile she handed him and flipping through.

“I kept them all. I never wanted to throw them out.” 

She looked over to him when he paused. His jaw was clenching, which made her confused. They never got into a fight over window notes. They only fought once, actually. And… well. It was because she loved him.

“What? What's wrong?” she peered over.

**_What came from that?_ **

Her whole body flushed. It was the last note she left. The one he never responded to. But it's clear that he read it.

“You never gave me an answer to that one.”

His eyes danced around, searching for what he wanted to say.

“Lets go to the garden,” he decided on.

* * *

It felt odd to walk through her yard, and the orphanage was still open, so they circled around the old playground on the other side. The long path behind the fences smelled like mud, the kind that has recently been made from a rainstorm, but the ground wasn’t wet. They passed her house’s fence - she couldn't help but glance at the strange sight of their untamed backyard - and soon, to the garden gate.

It wasn’t much different. Again, it also hadn’t been that long. But long enough for vines to grow around the hinges and the latch - of which was padlocked.

“Bloody hells,” Jon cursed, brushing his fingers against it. 

“They couldn’t even get a pretty one?” It was one of those cheap ones used for gym lockers. 

“Don't think the warden believed in pretty,” he sighed, looking ahead. “I don't see the kitchen light on.”

“What does that mean?”

He was already leading her back down the path, into her old back yard. They trudged through as the long grass tickled their ankles.

She gasped as he let go of her hand. She had held it for most of the car ride. If not his hand, her arms would hug his bicep, or his fingers would play with her short hair. 

But Jon only used it to push himself onto the rock wall separating the properties. He pulled her up so the both sat on the top of it; this was a different view of the garden that she never had seen before. Dany still looked on as he gestured for her to jump down.

“I never knew how...enchanting, it looked.” 

Jon looked on. “Yeah, well. It looked better when I was upkeep it.”

She giggled as they walked to the entrance of it. Honestly, with a little work, the shortly-abandoned feel gave it...charm.

She sat on the bench with a sigh. 

Jon, however, continued walking.

“What are you doing?”

Jon looked back at her, and then turned to face her fully. 

“Are you in love with someone, Dany?”

_“What?”_

“I’m just asking. Do you have someone you love?”

Her face twisted, but - no. In fact, she thought she fully, truthfully say no. she didn’t have anyone in her life to love.

“No. I tried two relationships. Neither worked out.” one was in the year after their summer together. The other was eight month ago. “Why? Are _you_ with someone?”

He stared at her for a moment, and then turned back around. He started digging through the bush.

“Oh, no,” she snapped, standing and walking over to him. “You can't just ask me if I'm up for grabs and then ignore my question. I'm not going to be a long-lost _game -”_

Jon sprouted up, leaning close to her face. “You were _never_ a game. That's why I asked. So i dont confuse you. Because i have spent the last two years confusing the fuck out of myself.” 

Seething, Dany backed away, noticing the thing in his hands. It was a postage bag - the flat ones that were covered in plastic. She nodded her head towards it. “Where’d you get that.”

“Where I left it, two years ago. Right before I left.”

“Oh, don't tell me you hid weed or something -”

“God’s Dany, no.” he brushed past and sat on the bench. “These two year have been a blur. I frankly cant tell you anything more than what i already told you.” he bounced his knee and picked up her head. “Except this one girl.”

Dany, who had started hugging herself, froze. “I don’t want to hear about -”

“No, no. it's nothing - well.” he sighed. “I tried to love her. But all I could do was compare. I compared the humor, her style, her kissing, fuck, _how it felt to hold her_ , and i just couldn’t stop my mind from going to you.”

His hand went to the back of his neck. She really had never seen him so vulnerable. Dany sat next to him, cautiously.

“I’ve been there, too.”

He looked at her. “With -”

“Thinking of you, constantly just telling myself it all wouldve been better if I was allowed to love you.”

Jon looked at her for a long time. And then he reached into the envelope, pulling out a whole pile of papers. She sucked in a breath.

“Are those -”

“Thing is, I _did_ answer you,” Jon said. “I knew exactly what came from those days of thinking. I had it written down and everything, but -” he huffed, shaking his head. “At first I was afraid. I didn’t admit it, but I was. And then I decided I wanted to see your face when I put it up. But when i went to do it that morning, you weren’t there. Nor was your note from the last night.”

A tear escaped her eye.

“Then I was transferred.”

Her eyes were glued to the pile.

Wordlessly, Jon took the last paper from the pile and handed it to her.

**_I love you too, Dany._ **

“I never said it back. It’s haunted me.” 

Dany couldn't do anything but stare at it. Read it again and again.

“And I know it's wrong, I know that we are probably two entirely different people now, but...I still do. And I’m sorry if that's not -”

For a second time on this garden bench, Dany kissed him. She kissed him with everything she had; the tears, the delirium, the loneliness that had been pouring out of her for the past year. She kissed him with the love she never lost.

In their first kiss, her mind reeled with the word _Heaven. Heaven. Heaven._ The garden that she snuck into every night, the love she found in the roll of devils’ dice and angels’ uncertainty, that triumph that was _him_ she still found despite it.

“How can I not love you?” she asked him, stroking his cheekbones, combing back the hair that had won against the gel’s strength. Her thumbs were wet with his tears. “You’re the one who brought me home.”

Home. That's what this was.

He sealed that fate with an everlasting kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the pain. of last chapter and this one. lmao oops.
> 
> this story is done for now; i may post an epilogue, but we don't know yet! i hope the ending was satisfying enough, either way.
> 
> this chapter was based on Taylor Swift's song, Style.

**Author's Note:**

> yet another 'drabble'!! ive had this idea since seventh grade and am so happy i finally was able to put it into a story. only took a few years!
> 
> im sorry for the sadness. but look out for the second part on Day 4: Lost Love / Reunions ;)
> 
> chapter is based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. listen for clear skin.


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